by Laura Burton
Nora nods, her smile brightening a notch.
“I’m sure we could have a little party here, maybe. That would be awfully fun, yeah?”
“Yeah! Oh my gosh, that would be so funny!”
“How old are you turning?”
“Six! Like this,” she says, holding up her fingers.
“Oh, wow. You’re gonna be so big.” Suddenly feeling my insides reel from the overwhelm of what a birthday party of a six-year-old girl looks like, I remember one very important piece of this puzzle.
Nora is not my kid.
“Although, we’d have to ask your dad first since he probably wants to spend your birthday with you, too. But we can always ask. Sound good?”
“He can come, too!”
“He can?” I ask, feigning astonishment.
Having thought about it, Nora shakes her head, her grin spreading even wider at the idea. “Actually, maybe only girls can be allowed! That would be fun enough!”
“Oh, okay,” I laugh, turning back to the stove. Grabbing the colander, I drain the noodles. It’s not long before I get the macaroni and cheese whipped up to the tune of Nora humming a song I’ve never heard before, but I can’t help but wonder if it’s a song by Raffi.
“Alrighty. You ready to eat?”
She nods voraciously and pops up from the couch with Pepper hot on her tail. Planting herself on the kitchen stool, she watches me. “I love mac and cheese. Daddy always gets the Kraft kind for me.”
“That’s nice of him.” Thinking about Parker strolling through the grocery store and stocking up on Nora’s favorite foods makes my heart vibrate on a certain harmony. “I think this is some organic brand or something,” I say, glancing over at the box. “Would you like it in a bowl or on a plate?”
“Plate, please.”
“Coming right up,” I lilt, suddenly feeling a bit strange around the corners. This whole afternoon, long into the evening of spending time with Nora like she’s partially my own makes my insides feel new. Being around a kid like this isn’t so bad after all.
“How about a little side salad?” I ask, trying to make it sound appealing. “Would you eat some if I made us one?”
“Yeah, I could eat some green.”
I chuckle at her words. “Carrots? Tomato?”
Nora turns her nose up. “No, thanks. I don’t like the slimy parts of the maters.”
“Noted. Carrots it is then. And your food’s in here, Little Miss,” I tell the pup as I shake her food bowl that’s still got some kibble in it from earlier.
With a slobbery mouth, Pepper races to me.
Planting a kiss on her soft head, I shower her with pets so she doesn’t feel slighted by today’s full attention having gone to Nora.
When I circle back around to the kitchen, I whip up a fresh salad for us to split and scoop a few spoons of noodles onto my own plate.
“Cheers,” I say, holding my plate over to hers.
A goofy grin making its way to her face, she flashes me her dimples. “Cheers,” she says, sliding her plate over, tapping it to mine. Taking a big bite of her dinner, she waggles her eyebrows. “This is the best cheesy macaroni I have ever had!”
“No way,” I laugh. “Even better than Kraft?”
“Yeah, lots better. But shhh.” She holds a finger to her lips. “We can’t tell Daddy how much better you make it. He might not ever let me have some over here again.”
“Okay,” I chuckle with a wink. “We won’t let him know. Our little secret?”
Nora nods and giggles, her dark eyes shining something fierce under the white of my kitchen lights. “Our little secret.”
Parker
“You awake yet, Pops?” I set my small styrofoam cup of black coffee on the side table and stand, idling at his bedside. At this moment, I’m unsure of a thousand different things. The most concerning is my dad’s health.
His silver hair is brushed back, his lips dry and cracked. A paper bracelet adorns his wrist making him look even frailer than he’d been earlier in the week when Nora and I met up with him for our usual dinner. The nurse had warned me that he’s currently medicated, but he’s been sleeping since I arrived at least three hours ago now. And the last thing I want to do is come and go without him even realizing I’d ever been here. I don’t want him to feel all alone in this world.
Not knowing what to do, I squeeze my shoulders back, the tension from today creeping down my back and leaving me with an armor of shame and guilt and maybe even rage. For what, I’m not quite sure. Placing my fingers on his unmoving forearm, I stare at him and will him to please be okay.
Suddenly stirring at my touch, Jerry turns his head toward me, licks his lips, and blinks hard. “It’s you.”
“It’s me,” I beam, just happy that he’s awake enough to know I’m here now. The fact that he even recognizes me throws me a wave of relief. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. “How are you feeling?”
My dad nods and slowly crosses his hands in front of him. “Like I’ve been run over by a semi-trailer on a road made of ice.”
I catch his nod at one of his favorite TV shows, Ice Road Truckers. And at least he still has his sense of humor about him.
“Can you eat? Do you want some water? Jell-O?”
Pop shakes his head. “Where’s the princess?” he says, his voice crackling.
“She’s not here.”
“Well, where’d she go?” His eyes dart up to mine. “Is there a ball pit somewhere here?”
“No,” I chuckle. “She didn’t come to the hospital. I didn’t want her seeing you like this.”
He nods in appreciation. “She with her nanny then?”
I shake my head. “She’s with Hadley,” I breathe, feeling an urge of calm sweep over me knowing she’s keeping my baby safe and sound.
“Who?” he asks, gruff now.
Hadley had met Jerry once in passing when he’d been over to the house last Christmas, but of course, he doesn’t remember her with the same fire that I do. “My neighbor. What happened? They said you broke your hip real good.”
Clearly high out of his mind on a sedative the nurses had given him, he bobs his head and whips a weak hand through the air like he’s wielding a heavy sword, his eyes starting to well up. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
I move my palm up to his bicep in an attempt to comfort him, but seeing him here and in so much pain tears me to pieces. “Alright. What do you want to talk about?”
“Nothin’.” Obviously not big on entertaining any of my questions tonight, Jerry rolls his eyes. Pressing his lips together, he blinks again, bringing his hand up to his cheek.
“Alright,” I say, turning back for the chair.
“Not enough time,” he says low. “There’s never enough time.”
Sitting, I nod but don’t say anything for what feels like at least three full minutes. When I can’t bear staying silent any longer, I stand from my spot in the chair and meet him, but he’s already fallen back to sleep. Not sure whether I’m talking to him or asking myself this question, I whisper in hopes he can hear me— even in his sleep. “What can I do, Pops?”
With no answer, I pull his sheet up over his arms in an attempt to tuck him in as best as I can without waking him. Knowing he probably just wants to be left alone, I gulp the last bit of coffee, toss the empty styrofoam cup in the bin, gather my keys and phone, and leave. “I’ll be back in the morning,” I promise just before shutting the door behind me so he can sleep in privacy.
When I make it back to the house, I park in my moonlit driveway and sit in silence for a good five minutes to gather myself before heading through the yard over to Hadley’s. I notice her patio lights on, so I head around the house only to find her outside on her lounger couch.
“Hey,” I say, holding up a hand, relieved as anything to even be seeing her right now.
“Oh, crap,” she gasps, clutching her book tighter to her lap, leaving her bookmark to float to the rust-colored bricks
beneath her. “You scared me.”
“Sorry,” I chuckle. Bending over, I pluck up the laminated marker and hand it to her.
“Thanks.” She’s sitting cross-legged in a pair of reddish shorts and a gray tank top. Her hair cascades over her moonlight-dappled shoulders, and the silver-tinted atmosphere of the night throws it an iced copper color.
“What’re you reading?” I ask as she scoots toward the edge of the lounger, making room for me. I sit next to her and suddenly feel exhausted with the weight of the way today’s events had played out all across the board. Everything from feeling like a straight-up donkey with Susan to Pop’s ending up in the hospital, having to leave Nora behind. All of it. But safe and sound back at home with Hadley by my side, I’m incredibly grateful that it wasn’t all worse. It can always be worse.
“The Secret Life of Bees,” she says, flashing me the cover of the book. “It’s one of my favorites.”
I nod, never having read it. I’m not a big devourer of books at all actually. But I tick that up to yet another quality that draws me into Hadley’s endearing spirit.
“Nora might like it when she’s a little older. How’s Jerry?” she asks, sliding the book onto the empty cushion on the other side of her. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah.” I sigh and run a hand through my hair that I’ve been meaning to get cut for a few weeks now. It’s too long for my liking in the summer. “He’s just fine. They’ve got him on painkillers. He was asleep when I left. Goes into surgery at nine tomorrow. They said it was routine under whatever surgeon they have up there now. Maybe Gussman. Regardless, they said he’s in good hands.”
Hadley nods. “Thank goodness. I was worried about him. And you, too.”
“I should’ve texted, sorry. I hadn’t planned on being there this late but—” Scratching the back of my neck, I let my nerves pool around me now that I’m not having to put up a strong-walled facade. “It’s been one of the craziest days.”
“Look, I know you’re overwhelmed, but it’s gonna be okay.”
I breathe, letting the weight of the day fall around me, giving it up, not wanting to carry it all with me any longer. Chuckling, I press my fingers to my eyelids and shake my head, a sudden onset of silliness overtaking me. “You want to hear something funny?”
“Of course.”
“I was broken up with today.”
Hadley’s expression turns to unsurprise. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It ended up being a pretty mutual decision. Not that it was really ever going to work out anyway. But it looks like I can now join you on the no more romance train.”
Looking over at me, Hadley snickers, her face suddenly lighting up. “See! I knew you didn’t think it was such a horrible idea. Welcome to the club,” she smiles.
“Yeah.” Losing my amusement, I nod until I find myself staring off into the distance of my own backyard that looks a lot different in the gloom of the night. Much more lonely.
“Things have just been failing left and right, and I can’t help but think it all has a common thread that leads back to me—”
“Whoa,” Hadley playfully snaps, obstructing me from my intentional downward spiral. “Don’t say that about yourself, kid.”
Exhaling into the night, I let a sly smile slip onto my expression. “Alright. I won’t say it then.” Steadying my breath, I close my eyes and bask under the cool edges of the July night. “How was Nora? Hope she wasn’t too much of a handful.”
Hadley laughs. “She was perfectly fine. She played with Pepper quite a bit. Had a few rounds of Go Fish. We ate dinner— mac and cheese with a salad.”
“No,” I blow, adding dramatics onto the word. “She actually ate a salad?”
Hadley shrugs. “I shouldn’t call it a whole salad. A few bites, at least.”
“You must be magic.”
“Then we played Guess Who until she decided she wanted to watch an episode of Peppa Pig.”
“Let me guess,” I chuckle. “She fell asleep.”
“Out like a light,” Hadley nods. “They’re inside on the bean bag.”
With a shake of my head, I can’t help but beam with things feeling the tiniest fraction of back to normal as they can right now. The fact that Hadley had taken Nora under her wing like this in my time of need makes my heart feel like it’s riding a tidal crest of gratitude for her closeness in our lives.
“Oh, and I should probably warn you. She asked if she could have her birthday party here next week.”
“Here? At your house?”
“Yeah,” she laughs.
“Wow. I’m sorry. I’m an awful dad. I wouldn’t tell many people this, but I’d forgotten her birthday is so soon. I haven’t had a chance to plan anything yet.”
Hadley licks her lips and shakes her head, her eyebrows pulling downward. “You have your hands full.”
Exhaling, I tap my knuckles together. “What’d she say she wants to do? For her birthday.”
“She mentioned a sleepover. I told her that’d be great as long as it’s okay by you, of course.”
“Hadley, you don’t have to—”
“It’s fine. I promise.”
Her insistence of including my daughter however she can in life tugs at my center again. Nearly too tired to focus on anything at all, I train my eyes to Hadley’s bare thigh where she drums her fingertips in time with the buzzing of the late-night cicadas.
With the plight of Lolli & Pop’s riding on my own creativity, the stress of having to switch packaging venues in South Carolina, navigating the madness that was supposed to be my daughter’s soon-to-be sixth birthday party, and now my dad’s seriously declining health, I can’t seem to make anything fit into my life the way it once used to. Every aspect, save for Hadley’s presence in my life, makes me feel like I’m slowly suffocating. Yet, here she is next to me. Supportive, a wonderful friend, kind, genuine in all facets of her day-to-day, amazingly generous to my daughter. It all puts a foreign feeling of quiet intimacy at the base of my being.
“There’s never enough time,” I suddenly whisper, my words barely seeping between us.
Hadley’s hair moves as she looks up at me. “What?”
“I just—” Exhaling, I reach over for her hand, a lullaby I’ve been wanting to experience with her again. Exactly how we used to. Linking my fingers through hers, I bring her hand over to my leg and trace tiny circles into the tender part of her wrist. “I think I’ve realized something today. There’s never enough time to do all these things. Everything we want in life.”
Looking down at where I hold her hand, she furrows her brow. “What type of things, Parker?”
Her question puts a boulder down my throat until I can gather my thoughts from where they lie under a messy fog of what-ifs and why nots and maybe one days. “Things in the business. Be the dad I’m supposed to be to Nora. Quit failing at every corner of my life.”
“You’re an amazing dad to Nora,” she says, cutting in. “I keep telling you that, but you never believe me.”
“Maybe.” Looking over, I connect with Hadley’s green eyes for the first time here next to her tonight. “Since there’s not enough time, I also think we should be able to be with the people we want.”
Blinking hard, Hadley nods. “I should probably tell you that Nora was asking me questions tonight.”
“What kind of questions?”
“About us. Whatever we are. I tried to be—” She shrugs and scoops her hair behind her ear. A breeze flits by us as it gifts us a waft of nearby honeysuckle. “As honest as possible when I told her the truth.”
“And what’s your truth?”
“My truth?” She tilts her head slightly, like a concerned pup. “My truth is I love spending time with Nora. She’s a great girl. And you,” she breathes. “You, too.”
Cocking an eyebrow, I fight the immediate sensation to smile. Instead, I second her notion. “And me you,” I promise her.
She takes in a small breath, her eyes scrunching. Pull
ing her fingers from mine, she turns to me and raises both of her hands, cupping my face with a playful grin. Her scent is another sweet mash of citrus and vanilla under the wooded oaks that cradle us in her backyard. But the way she touches me tonight makes me feel cherished, protected here in the vicinity of our shared tranquility, coveted and comfortable.
Bringing my own hand up, I press my thumb to her chin and lean forward, touching my forehead to hers. “I’m still so enamored by you,” I whisper, the words sounding fresh but forgotten. Like I’ve never whispered such a turn of a phrase in my entire life. Not to my ex-wife. Not to any girlfriend I’ve ever had. And definitely not to Hadley through the two months we dated earlier in the year, though I will admit, the sparks I felt with her never left me.
“Maybe you’re right,” she says back, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I think you are.”
“Right? About what?”
“About never having enough time. No matter which way life goes, it seems like it’s never the right time. For anything. And so maybe there’s no such thing as perfect timing.”
Understanding what she means, I nod ever so slightly. The truth is I’d give anything to kiss those lips of hers again. Softly placing my thumb to her lips, I study them, their wine-kissed color in the night. “Hadley.” I breathe her name like it’s one of the only names I know right now. Like it pains me to even say it aloud.
“Yeah.”
“Can I kiss you?” I ask, my question sounding more like a plea than an actual inquiry.
She nods, and the floodgates to my long-buried feelings open.
Taking my time the way I wanted in the kitchen during our Saturday Movie Night, I press my lips to hers in a soft, sensual kiss that makes my neck grow flushed with summer fever. Through our kiss, I feel Hadley’s chest rise and fall, quicker and more fleeting, my own pulse now beating like the wings of a hummingbird.
